


Something Warm

by semele



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:56:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5956219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/pseuds/semele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first forfeit was an apple.</p><p>(Written for <a href="http://ravenbell-kink.dreamwidth.org/1145.html">Ravenbell Kink Meme</a>, prompt: <i>the one where raven & bellamy start a tradition of making bets, and as time goes the stakes start to be a little closer to home to the point where one night they literally bet each other a blowjob; of course, both REALLY plan on losing so they're the one giving it because the thirst is real, and sexy hilarity ensues. (bonus if it's not established at all.)</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Warm

Their first forfeit was an apple.

Bellamy doesn’t even remember what that bet was about, only that he lost it spectacularly, and that Raven apparently isn’t the most gracious winner. She ate the apple right in front of him, grinning and chewing loudly until he laughed, and poked her with his elbow to silence her. It was the first real smile he saw from her after Mount Weather, and he couldn’t really stop looking at her tiny joy. It felt important somehow.

A few bets later, it turned out that when she loses, she does it with good humor, though Bellamy decided not to tempt fate by gloating just in case. He simply sat in front of Raven, his back to her and his face to the common fire, and collected his hard-won shoulder rub with a few grateful little groans, because it felt so ridiculously good to be touched like this, even through the material of his shirt.

In hindsight, he probably should never have started making bets that involved touching. But at the time, Bellamy was too starved and lonely to even want to think about how it was probably a bad idea, and so there were a few more back rub bets in the the span of a few weeks; sorry little attempts to get some touch, get something nice and warm, but without having to admit that they needed it.

Then there was the kiss.

To be fair, it was Raven’s idea all along, but Bellamy did nothing to stop her. They were all sitting outside Miller’s hut, mending spears and fishing nets, and gossiping like no tomorrow. Raven decided she could mend a tear faster than he could, and when Monty goaded them to race, Bellamy found himself laughing and asking about the stakes, pretending that he was deciding whether it was worth his time. 

Yes it was. It so was.

They never said it out loud what kind of kiss they meant, but Bellamy still ended up holding needle and thread with very shaky fingers, his cheeks flushed from the excitement of the competition, yes, of course, that’s why, and when he won, he couldn’t believe his own eyes. Those were some of the worst stitches he’d made in years, not that there was anything in their bet about quality.

Their friends were still gathered around them, hollering and laughing, and among their yells, Raven stepped into his personal space in a few bold moves, then gave him a kiss that felt like a dare, deep and biting, and with a hint of a challenge that rang frightfully familiar.

When she pulled away, he stopped himself, at the very last moment, from reaching out to cup her cheek.

***

And here they are now: face to face, with a chessboard between them, and about to do something very stupid.

“You look like you’re about to bet me for a round of oral next,” he jokes, because, really. After that kiss, this would be the logical next step. What he doesn’t expect is Raven extending her hand to him.

“Why not?” she asks, and here’s that challenge again, the kind that makes her look like she has nothing to lose. 

“You’re kidding me.”

“Try me.”

It would be such a thrilling thing to do if they were a couple, let’s play a game of chess, and winner gets head, except they’re not; not sleeping together, not seeing each other, however you want to slice it. They aren’t even the kind of friends who see each other naked, except that one time, unspoken, and making a bet like this is the height of stupidity. There is no way he’s doing it.

Which is why he takes Raven’s hand, and shakes it while holding her gaze.

It’s one mess of a game, and at first Bellamy thinks Raven must be distracted, be it by mounting excitement or sudden regret, because her game is less on point than usual, not that he’s putting up this much of a fight. He knows she’s just stubborn enough to insist to pay up, should he win, and there is no way in hell he’s getting a blowjob out of her like this. If anyone’s going down because of a bet, it’s gonna be him.

It dawns on him that Raven might not be quite as distracted as he thought when he moves his rook right next to her queen, and instead of taking it, she ostensibly moves the queen in a completely different direction. Fifteen minutes later, all they have to show for their effort is a few pawns each, and a board that looks like it was set by a pair of completely drunk people with only a vague idea of how chess is supposed to work.

Which is when Raven moves as if to grab one of her pawns, but topples her king instead.

“I give up,” she says quietly. “Your place or mine?”

“You didn’t lose.”

“I say I did. Your place or mine?”

It’s like she’s daring him to reject her, or to take advantage, he can’t even tell. What he knows is that she looks just desperate enough for him to lead her to his hut first, ask questions later.

As soon as they step in, her hand goes straight to his belt buckle, and on instinct, he cups her cheeks instead of trying to still her fingers.

“Don’t,” she says like she’s angry, like he’s being dumb or obtuse, like he should know so much better. “Don’t, it’s fair, let me… I want to.” She tugs at his belt, her voice quieter. “I want to.”

We’re starved and lonely, and we’ll make bad choices if we fucking want to.

So he lets his hands grow soft on her cheeks, and he leans to give her a kiss, slow and breathless; the kind of kiss that leaves him completely bare.

“Okay.”

She pulls him out of his pants before she steers them so that she’s sitting on his chair with him standing between her splayed legs, his hands grabbing the back of the chair. So far, he’s been half-hard at best, but now he’s catching up rapidly as the reality of what’s happening hits him fully, Raven’s fingers wrapped around his cock, and her forehead pressing against his stomach as she drops random kisses on his skin. Would it be that she wants him to want?

But before he can find an answer, she takes him into her mouth, and just like that, Bellamy doesn’t think anymore. She doesn’t even try taking him in deeply, opting to stroke him with her hand instead, but she gives the head of his cock a gentle suck that makes him choke on a breath, and tighten his grip on the chair.

“Raven?” he lets out, not really knowing what he’s asking for. More? Less? Again?

Again. Again. Again.

Again.

It takes all the self-control he can muster to not rock his hips, not try pulling her on deeper. Even without all that, he feels himself close embarrassingly soon, and it doesn’t even occur to him to try holding back. His warning is breathy and quiet, followed by Raven’s low hum, and before he can know it, he’s spilled all over her shirt, just a few drops caught on her lower lip.

They’re starved and they’re lonely, and maybe, for once, they don’t have to fight just to get something warm.

She doesn’t protest when he goes down on his knees, but stills his wrist when he reaches for the button of her jeans, her eyes piercing.

“You didn’t lose.”

“I say I did.”

When she directs his hands to take off her brace first, she does it without a hint of her usual challenge.


End file.
